The Roof is on Fire (26 page)

My baby daddy was trying to impress me by carrying all six bags into the house. A sheen of sweat covered his forehead and he pulled up his wife-beater to dab the sweat. I got a glimpse of his abs. The look of them almost sent me to my knees, begging him to slip something into my mouth. I wanted to rip his clothes off right then and there, but I didn't want to blow it, as I had done so many times in the past.

“Thank you so much, but please tell me your name,” I said.

“Roc,” he said. How fitting for a stallion of a man like him? “But before you tell me yo name, you'd better go outside to pay the taxi driver. He's about to clown on yo ass. I wouldn't want him to do that, especially since I'm enjoyin' the look of it.”

I didn't respond, but since he was enjoying
it,
I made sure he got a good look at my butt as I sashayed back to the taxi. I could only imagine what Roc was thinking. My tight, gray skirt hugged my backside like a long lost best friend, and my red silk shirt was draped low in the front, showing off my 36 C's. I had no idea what I was going to embark upon coming to Hell House, but I was thankful that my attire was professional and sexy.

“How much do I owe you?” I inquired to the taxi driver while digging into my purse.

The Fred Sanford-looking black man cut his eyes at me and then he pointed to his meter. “The car was still runnin' while you were inside. You owe me a hundred and fifty-two dollars.”

It sounded like he had gunpowder clogged in his throat. My hand quickly moved to my hip and the attitude was back.

“One hundred and fifty what?” I yelled. “Are you kidding me?”

He had the audacity to put up his hand, displaying the numbers. “Five. Two. Fifty-two and the meter is still runnin'.”

“And I'm going to be running in a minute as well because that is too much money. Besides, I can't seem to find my wallet. Did I leave it on the backseat?”

Yep, he was playing me like a fool, but please
Don't Even Go There
because I could play him so much better. I opened the back door and bent over to feel the floor, as if I was searching for my wallet. Roc was getting a clear view of what to expect when he hit it from the back, and without any panties on, I bent further over.

“I don't know what happened to my wallet. Are you sure you didn't see it?” I said to the driver.

“No, I didn't see yo wallet, but you need to get my money or else there's about to be some trouble.”

See, he just pissed me off. Some men hadn't a clue where to draw the line. Was he really going to beat my ass because I didn't have the money? No. I eased out of the backseat and closed the door.

“Unfortunately, I can't find my wallet,” I said with a shrug. “Either you can call the police or overcharge some of your other customers to make up the difference.”

“Or, I can get out of this taxi and fuck you up. That's what I'm about to do!”

He swung the door open and hopped out of the taxi like he was trained by Bruce Lee. Broken leg, my ass. I didn't have to say one word because my baby daddy was right there to intervene.

“What's up, old school?” Roc asked as he stood over the taxi driver in a very intimidating manner. “Why you out here tryin' to rip this woman off? You didn't even want to help her with her bags, and now
you disrespectin' her over some money? She said she lost her wallet, so nothin' else needs to be said.”

The taxi driver backed away from Roc, but I stood close behind him in case something popped off. If anyone was going to get cut, it wasn't going to be me. Baby daddy was going down by himself.

“Look, man, just get this broad to give me my money. After that I'm out of here. If not, I'm gon' have to call the police. If I have to go that route, things will get ugly.”

Maybe so because baby daddy looked like the kind of brother who probably had warrants. I didn't want him to get arrested, so I tried to compromise with the foolish taxi driver by offering him twenty dollars. “Here,” I said, handing the bill to him. “It's all I have. Take it or leave it.”

He reached inside of the taxi for his phone. “Fuck this shit. I should've called the police from the get-go.”

“Dialin' the police means some blood may have to be shed,” Roc said. “So think before you act. I don't have any dollars on me right now, but give me yo address and I'll mail the rest to you later.”

It was obvious that Roc was gangsta, but there was no need for blood to shed. The old man pondered what to do and then all of our eyes shifted to a triple-black Mercedes with tinted windows. We could barely see who was inside, but when the passenger-side door swung open, I staggered backward and almost fell on my ass. Baby daddy had a twisted look on his face and the taxi driver stared as if he wished he were a woman. Almost in slow motion, a light-skinned brother with dark shades shielding his eyes emerged from the car. The smell of money was blowing through the air and we all inhaled it. He knew he was the shit and the ones who never smiled always had a big ego. I surely wanted to ignore him, but couldn't. He threw up the deuces sign to the driver and the driver backed away to leave. Professionally dressed like I was, the tailored navy suit he wore couldn't be duplicated. It had to be made specifically for him and the way it clung to the frame of his body was breathtaking. From the tip of the natural curls in his hair, to those shiny, black shoes that hit the pavement as he swaggered forward, he was flawless.

“I hope I'm not too late,” he said, looking directly at me behind his stare. He was still at a short distance, but I was speechless, until baby daddy cleared his throat.

“Too late for what?” Roc asked. “Ain't too much of nothin' happenin' yet.”

Shiiiit, baby daddy needed to speak for himself. There were a whole lot of things happening—inside of my coochie, of course. I was too ashamed to elaborate.

As Mr. Handsome came closer, he moved like a theme of music played in his head. His eyes gave me an intense stare down, and when he pulled his shades away from his face, I felt like his addictive steel-gray eyes were firing bullets from an AK-47. His gaze was so powerful that it sent shockwaves throughout my entire body. Sadly, I could feel a slow drip of sweat sliding down my forehead.
Get it together, Chase, now! Never let a man see you sweat or else you're screwed!
Right about now, getting screwed wasn't a bad idea.

“Nothing happening,” Mr. Sexy said to me, ignoring Roc altogether. They both were checking me out and that was a good thing. “If ain't nothing happening, why is everybody outside looking irate?”

The taxi driver couldn't wait to speak up. “I dropped her off at this house, and she left me out here, sittin' in the car for at least thirty minutes. When she came back, I told her that she had to pay up. She got mad, and the next thing I know, this man out here yellin' and threatenin' to hurt me for only doin' my job. I don't want no trouble from nobody, but this cheap bitch done tried to get over on me. If she don't pay up, I will call the police.”

“First of all,” Roc said, preparing his defense for me. “Get yo time straight because she wasn't inside for no thirty minutes. If you had not lied to her about your leg bein' broken, this wouldn't even be no problem. Fess up and admit to your laziness. I wouldn't pay you one damn dime either, so why don't you go ahead and call the police?”

I surely didn't want the cab driver to do that, only because the police might force me to pay the money. I hurried to speak up and was thrilled that Roc had already tried to make my case. “There's no need to call the police, but you need to cut what I owe you in half. Roc is
right. I wasn't inside for thirty minutes and you're the one who is trying to get over.”

The cab driver wasn't trying to hear what we were saying. He kept going on and on, and he even called me another bitch. I was about ready to let him have it, but then Mr. Handsome spoke up for me.

“Naw, she ain't no cheap bitch,” the sexy man answered in my defense. “She too fine to fit into that category. But I agree—somebody definitely needs to pay you your money.”

“That's all I'm sayin',” the taxi driver said, mean-mugging me.

Next thing I knew, Mr. Handsome reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash that was barely secured with a diamond money holder. He flipped through three hundred dollars and gave it to the taxi driver.

“Problem solved,” he replied to the driver. “Now jet before you catch a beat-down from this beautiful woman you done pissed off, or from thug lovin' who I know wouldn't mind putting his foot in your ass.”

“All day, every day, especially when I feel a muthafucka is out of line,” baby daddy shot back. But his comment was directed at the really cute one. All he did, though, was snicker and smooth walk his way toward the front door.

“Preciate you, bruh!” the driver shouted. “You are my kind of nigga!”

Mr. Sexy turned around, giving his head a slight tilt. He stroked his goatee and his eyes looked to be shooting real bullets at the driver who had obviously said the wrong thing. “My name is Jaylin Rogers. I don't go by no other name and calling me anything else will get you disrespected. You've been warned.”

Well damn! I hoped he wouldn't be that upset when I referred to him as my baby daddy. At this point, I was confused about who I wanted to proudly wear that title. The driver threw his hand back and rushed back into the taxi. He sped off in a hurry. All I could think about was rewarding both of these handsome men for all that they'd done for me already. While observing Roc's backside as he walked in front of me, I was so sure I would be able to come up with something spectacular for my new room/playmates.

She was sexy and pretty—check. Nails done—check. Smelled good— check. Hair in order—check. Nice ass—check. No panty line—double check. Seems as if the only thing that concerned me was the status of her financial situation. I bet any amount of money that her credit score was fucked up. If she couldn't afford to pay the taxi driver, there wasn't no telling what else she couldn't afford.

In addition to that, the last thing I needed was to add another woman to my payroll. The ex-wife and ex-mistress were already milking me dry. Everybody had their hands out for something, and with all the cash I'd been dishing out, there was no way possible for me to retire again. I had to keep money flowing. As hard as I worked, there wasn't a chance in hell that I'd turn down a vacation or an opportunity like this one to get away. Three months sounded like a plan to me, but I had to check this place out to make sure I was down with it. If everything appeared to be in order, then I planned to call my best friend, Shane, and have him come back here to drop off my things. For now, though, my shit stayed in his car, until I felt comfortable with my surroundings.

For starters, the place was cool. It was nowhere near what I was used to, but what the hell? I liked white accessories, and from what I had seen about the house thus far, it looked spotless. I was digging the swimming pool, and when I stepped outside onto the patio, I noticed a nice-size workout area where I could exercise in the morning. There was also a game room with a pool table and bar. The bathroom, however, was a bit on the tiny side. As I looked at it, I realized how much I would probably miss my Jacuzzi. I closed the door and then made my way into what was supposed to be a bedroom. I was shocked to see
how narrow and confined it was. It would take at least three of these beds to match mine, and what the fuck was up with the nametags and colorful décor covering the mattresses? I sat on one of the beds, making sure it was comfortable enough for me to sleep. It wasn't. I started to rethink the whole thing, but as I was in deep thought, I heard the door squeak open. In walked the woman who had snubbed the cab driver.

“Hello,” she said with a bright smile. She took a seat on the bed in front of me, crossing her well-moisturized legs. “I see you checking out this house, huh? I am, too, but I wanted to thank you for paying the taxi driver for me. He was so rude to me; therefore, I felt no need to give him one dime.”

I was trying to get a good read on this woman, so I didn't say much. I let her do most of the talking, yet kept my responses brief. “There's not much in here to check out, especially in this room.”

She looked around, paying extra attention to the nametags. “So, whoever Jada is, she's supposed to sleep between you and Prince. As for me, my name is Chase and I'm to the left of Roc. He's the other nice-looking man out there, but I don't like to be the closest person to the door. Do you mind if I switch Jada's nametag with mine?”

I shrugged as if it didn't matter to me either way. It didn't. Chase switched the nametags and then she sat back on the bed directly across from me. She opened her legs wide, before crossing them again. My eyes shifted so quickly that I was sure she hadn't picked up on where they had flashed to. I saw her shaved pussy, and I hated for a woman to play games and tease me. Her actions reminded me too much of my children's mother, Scorpio. Strike one.